Chapter Text
A few miles deep into the Scorpioides Valley, a boy stumbled through the amber foliage that littered the ground. His head was protected by old oaks, the hazy sunlight filtered in through the crevices of leaves that barely held to the wood.
Screams echoed from the hills nearby. Screams that told a story, a story of anguish and torment. Drums of war pounded for hours on end. The fast thud, thud, thud of the boy’s heartbeat was loud enough to feel.
Cries from commanders, those who chivalrously led during training, crashed to the earth and begged. Their pleas were never heard, and the dirt was a handkerchief for their tears. A sponge for their blood.
The boy ran the minute he saw his general succumb to cowardice. His legs took him this far, but his lungs failed to take him further.
He crashed down to the grass and a cloud of soot surged from the breeze he produced during the fall. The inhalation of gunpowder stung his nose and coated his tongue.
A haze of smoke covered the area, it filled his lungs like a disease. With his vision blurred, he still made out a shadow veiled from within the smoke.
His savior, he believed. With a hand that reached outwards, he began to crawl toward the bulky figure.
And then a spear protruded out one end from his savior. Their enemy penetrated through his rescuer with ease, and the boy put a hand over his mouth to muffle his own screams.
With newfound adrenaline, the boy picked himself up and scrambled away once more. He did not turn back when the hollow thud of a body echoed throughout a crowded valley, where amber leaves leaked crimson.
This has got to be the worst selection of people Leo has ever chosen to steal from.
Two ladies dance in the middle of an open road, their boots hit the stone in an ugly manner. The strumming of a guitar can be heard, and the bard who carries said guitar stomps his foot. Really loudly. No one should give this guy a microphone or else the whole world will contract tinnitus. The bard sings of booze, bitches, and the bubonic plague.
This dude is probably so lonely, definitely never spoke to any person at all. Not one. He’s also really unoriginal. He thinks he might have heard this same exact song a week ago. Bro needs to put down his guitar and experience the many other issues life has to offer.
Drunks sway in the streets, throwing punches. They throw and miss their target by a long shot, probably pulling muscles with their terrible form. It’s not even midday yet. How are they all already drunk enough to fight? Well, not that he's saying fighting is reserved for the blackout drunks, the tipsy are allowed to tussle a bit with his permission.
And a child, in lavish attire, is staring at him with tiny beady eyes. The prick doesn’t even have the decency to blink, what a weirdo. It’s like he’s daring Leo to come and fight him.
And Leo will, he has no morals when it comes to rude children.
He pushes himself up from the brick wall he leans on and menacingly walks over to the kid. God, he must look so cool. The coolest thief in all of the kingdom, he must admit.
“What're you lookin’ at?” Leo snarks while towering over the boy.
“Dad said not to talk to strangers,” the boy says while pulling a giant lollipop from the back pocket of his... trousers? Definitely coated in diseases unknown to mankind.
“Did your dad tell you about how staring for an uncomfortable amount of time can be rude? Aren’t you supposed to be in a rich-kid school at this time of day? Learning about-I dunno-how to read Latin? Actually no, I got a better one. How to avoid taxes with no repercussions. You see, I didn't even need school to learn that.”
The child frowns. “Shouldn’t you be tending the farms?”
Oh this pretentious asshole did not.
“I’ll have you know I’m going to become one of the-”
“Why do you have that ugly black mask wrapped around your face?” the boy asks, shoving his dirty finger into Leo’s personal space.
“Jesus, have you ever heard of personal boundaries? First, you violate me with those terrifying blue eyes, then you stick your grubby hands in my face. Like- how are your hands so filthy? Have you even touched water before? If you were to commit murder and someone were to try to get your fingerprints, it would be useless because none would show. Only mud. You're literally wearing the most prestigious clothing and you're somehow only covered in mud, you grimy little mud demon,” Leo spits out and knocks the child’s hand away from his face.
The child puts his thumb into his mouth. He sucks the mud. He literally eats the mud that's been drying out in this harsh sun. Leo thinks he's going to drown this kid just to do him a favor and cleanse him.
“Look, kid. What are you? Five? Six? You should be respecting your elders, especially because they aren’t snotty, muddy, little brats like you.”
“I’m seven! I’m old enough to buy a knife all by myself!”
Is that right? Who’s been allowing these rules to pass?
“Whatever.” Leo rolls his eyes, eyeing the lollipop. “Give it to me,” he says, extending a hand out towards the boy.
“What?”
“Give me the lollipop,” he says, face stern.
“But I need it,” the brat tries to reason.
“No, you don’t. You’ve been rude, and you're muddy, and now you must pay the price. I swear, are your parents not even parenting correctly? I gotta do everything ‘round here,” Leo says with a sigh, exasperated by the sudden hardships and stresses of parenting that have just been placed on him.
Slowly, the boy puts the candy into the turtle’s hand. He nervously glances over to a nearby shop.
Leo brings it up to his eye, inspecting it closely, then looks back over to the child. A slow grin breaks out across his face as he shoves the candy into his mouth, making sure every last inch of it has been touched by his saliva.
Who cares if he contracts diseases, the reaction this will gain will make it all worth it. Surprisingly, it tasted immaculate. Like God decided to bless the world with only this one thing and turned the gross lollipop into a delicacy. Like that one water into wine magic trick. That's a classic.
“No!” the kid screams in pure outrage. “You will regret this!”
Leo raises his brow, pulling the lollipop from his mouth. “Oh yeah, what’re you gonna do ‘bout it? Cry?”
The child raises his chin to the air and screams with all of his might. “Dad!” he cries over and over.
Well… It appears that he did in fact cry.
“Oh boy,” Leo mumbles under his breath. He looks around, eyes of the common folk stare at him with concerned faces. Then a man slams open a shop door, eyes fiery with rage. He comes sprinting towards the turtle. That might be his cue to get the fuck out of there.
“Bartholomew! Are you okay?” the man shouts.
Leo makes a face, lollipop clenched in his hand. “My name isn’t Bartholomew. What kind of lousy name is that? But I am okay, very kind of you to ask.”
The man runs past him and hugs the gross boy.
Oh.
The brat’s name is Bartholomew.
A stupid name for a stupid and muddy kid.
“Your name is stupid,” he voices his opinion aloud, just so they know. Maybe it isn’t too late for them to fix their mistake.
“What did you do to my boy?” the man exclaims like he’s accusing him that Leo’s in the wrong.
“Dad! He pulled a knife on me! He tried to kill me!” Bartholomew cries, like a whiny baby.
“I did no such thing. Your child is a liar and a scoundrel. I only took his lollipop which is now rightfully mine. And Barty boy here is clearly fine. If he can scream then he can breathe. That’s my motto,” Leo huffs.
“Guards! Guards! This man is harassing my child!” the guy yells, grabbing even more unwanted attention.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Leo says while backing away, hands raised. “No need to blow this out of proportion. I mean, I bet we’re both civilized people, right? Couldn’t we reach some sort of agreement?”
Two guards come running up to the scene Bartholomew is creating. It’s embarrassing, really.
“You called? What’s the problem, sir?” one guy asks, face covered by a helmet. A clunky-looking helmet that looks more like a garbage can than a piece of protective gear.
“This jerk threatened my son!” he says while pointing an accusatory finger toward Leo.
Now that’s just rude. Their idiotic stories are becoming hard to follow.
“You weren't even here to witness the truth! I merely took his lollipop!” Leo says while throwing his hands up into the air. “And why do you guys even care about this? You literally do jack-shit for anything that concerns the working class, only licking the royal and noble’s boots like the little suckups you guys are.”
That seems to piss the guard off, and while that was his intention, now he’s stuck in a little predicament.
Everyone tenses in a moment of silence.
Leo notices the small shift in the guard's foot, the telltale sign he’s about to attack. Trash Can Man jabs his spear and the turtle narrowly dodges a spike directed toward his shoulder.
Leo raises his hands into the air, the lollipop still tightly held within his grasp.
“Yikes, boss man. You might need to calm down a bit.” He licks the lollipop in between his sentences. “Now trying to kill me is an easy mistake to make, but I would recommend not making that mistake again-mostly for my own safety."
The other guard raises a sword and launches his body toward Leo. The turtle stabilizes his feet and drops in height with a squat. Catching the guard off guard, Leo wraps his arms around the soldier’s legs, letting momentum do most of the hard work. The guard topples over Leo’s shoulder and eats cobblestone as a reward for his lack of hindsight.
Leo stands up abruptly, bending his knees in order to get a good lift-off when he’s going to speed away. But first, he has one more thing he’d like to say.
“Bartholomew the Fifth, I have now declared you my archnemesis. I hope that whenever you see a lollipop, you will think of this moment, and you will cry like the stupid, idiot baby you are.” Leo waves and shoves the candy in his mouth.
“He’s seven, you jerk!” the man says while gracing him with the middle finger.
He takes the lollipop out once more. “Okay? Did I ask? If a seven-year-old murders someone it’s still considered murder,” he says with a shrug.
“That’s not how it works!” the man cries. Wow, this family has crying problems.
It seems like his bickering time is up considering the guards are back on their feet and are looking mighty ugly. And angry. Their breaths sound deep and concise. Definitely angry.
He darts off, not before creating an L-shape with his fingers and putting it to his forehead. He sticks his tongue out, soaking up the vexation radiating off his enemies.
He hears the shouts of the guards, a few steps behind him, and pumps his arms at a faster pace. His feet slap the pavement as he shoves his way through small crowds of civilians, trying to lose the soldiers as fast as possible.
The thought of April slips into his mind, which, no. He shall not think about her and the many apologies he’ll have to supply to her.
He takes a right, not thinking about the consequences of his decision.
A wall too high to scale greets him and the realization of the deep shit he got himself into sinks in. He frantically turns around, praying that he has time to squeeze out of this alley. Two guards, who appear close to bursting a vein, close in on him. God, he doesn’t know how he’ll get himself out of this one.
“Think, Leo, think,” he mumbles to himself, tone increasing out of pure panic alone. He searches for anything to aid in his escape.
And in this dirty, smelly alley, he spots a frog sitting among the heaps of trash. He spins back to the guards and points the lollipop in their direction, like wielding a sword.
“Don’t you come any closer,” he warns.
“Oh, throwing you in prison is going to be the light of my life.” Garbage Man nefariously cackles.
He takes a step back as they take a step forward. And when they point their weapons at him, he shoves the lollipop into his mouth and dives into the pile of garbage.
“Oh that’s disgusting,” he hears one guard complain. “Can’t we just leave him in there? I don’t think we get paid enough for this shit.”
“No, Usagi. We get bonuses for throwing people in jail, this is just free money at this point.”
Rude. They seem to have underestimated his planning skills while Leo apparently overestimated.
He abruptly stands, an amphibian in hand. Their heads snap at his sudden movement and, using his free hand, he pulls the sucker from his mouth. He aims at the trashcan guard’s head and lets the frog fly.
The frog hits the metal and the guard collapses to the floor. The other soldier shrieks and Leo stares in amazement.
He can’t believe that just worked. This is the best day of his life. His immaculate last-minute improvising has finally proved to be a blessing. Not that it wasn't already perfect in every way, shape, and form.
Blinking out of his stupor, he remembers that badass people always say memorable lines after doing something cool.
“Did you just kill Gregory?” the stupid guard accuses.
“I toad you guys to not come any closer,” he says with a smirk. He slowly inserts the lollipop back into his mouth while imagining the sounds of cool ass birds squawking in the distance.
The guard’s mouth hangs agape, and his sword clatters to the ground. Shortly after, the man follows suit, crumbling to the ground while holding his gut and groaning in pain.
Wow, these people are pathetic and he finds it to be extremely offensive that they did not applaud his amazing pun.
He begins to step over the bodies, eyes lingering on the frog that sits completely unharmed on top of Trash Can’s body. He squints at the animal, crouching down to get a better look at it. He stares at it, refusing to back down from this assertion of dominance.
It blows a bubble from its neck.
Leo stumbles back, putting a hand over his plastron while trying to catch his breath from the display of power.
He stuffs the lollipop back into his mouth and carefully scoops up the frog.
Bringing it closer to his face, he whispers: “You are my child now. And while I may be your father, I beg of you to teach me your ways.”
The soldier he hovers over begins to stir, causing the turtle to stagger away from the man. He places the frog on top of his head, believing that to be the only way to soak up its energy.
He begins to stroll out of the alleyway, freezing when he hears one of the guard’s grating voices.
“Hey! Gregory, he’s getting away!”
Leo scowls as he begins to sprint once more. God, he can’t catch a break. Although, he supposes this run is mainly his fault. He was caught lacking when he shouldn’t have been. No doubt in his mind that the lollipop chase was entirely on Bartholomew. That jerk ruined his whole life, he's the reason why Leo lives in an orphanage.
“All this over a lollipop, boys? C’mon, isn’t there a war you should be fighting?” Leo yells, looking over his shoulder. He seems to have gained some distance, which he’ll take. Progress is progress.
They don’t reply, which is fine. He didn’t want to hear their stupid voices anyway.
He sees a stand full of fruit and begins to sprint in that direction instead, a new plan forming in his head.
Once the stand is within reach, using his strong and very muscular biceps, he tugs one of the poles.
It doesn’t budge.
Leo begins to frantically shake the stand, hoping for it to spontaneously combust from the pure amount of strength he has been exerting on it. Like, goddamn, he works out. Well… working out can actually be a range of things. So yes, he'll count committing small acts of mugging the wealthy as working out. But hey, at least he hasn't died while working out yet.
“Get that brat! He needs to pay!” Waste Basket shouts.
Well, he might die. But he’s too young and charismatic to die! He hasn’t even gotten the chance to drink his first beer yet!
Making uncomfortable eye contact with the soldiers speeding right at him, he pushes and pulls the small shop.
Someone taps his shoulder, causing him to whirl around and face his new perpetrator.
“Excuse me, kind sir. Please don’t knock my shop over, I just got my vendor's license a week ago after someone overturned my bananas. It was a whole fiasco, I’m sure you heard about it. So many people twisted their ankles after slipping on my beautiful, long yellow fruits.”
Leo stares at him. Who invited this guy to this party? No one needs the elderly bashing in on things that are completely irrelevant to them. The old man rocks on his feet, hands clasped behind his back.
The shouts are coming closer now, adrenaline pumps through his veins.
He swiftly grabs a banana and places it on top of his head. Maybe his child can make use of it.
He takes off once more, stumbling over the uneven terrain. He’s going to strangle whoever built these roads. Who even gave cobblestone the green light as the main material to use? He swears he will track this person down and he will make their life a living hell like how they’ve done to him. Maybe make them rip apart the awful streets they’ve constructed, only allowing them to use their bare hands in the process. No, actually make them eat the rocks. And goodie for the consumers, cobblestone supplies good nutrition. He would know.
He forces his way into a rush of people, attempting to make himself smaller within the crowd.
“Move! Move or we will make you!” the guard’s voice booms.
With cries of horror and noises of protest, the group slowly disperses, leaving Leo out in plain sight.
His hunters’ heads snap to the lime green turtle, who wiggles his fingers at them before turning to speed off once more.
“Oh my god! Gregory, buddy, why can’t we just give up? At this pace, we’ll be chasing him out of the kingdom and into the valley.”
“No!” Dumpster Fire seethes. “This brat deserves to go! The minute he launched that frog at me was the minute I stopped playing around!”
Leo smirks and cups a hand over his mouth. “Obsessed with me much?” he calls out, giggling before the laughs devolve into coughing. His lungs are basically on fire, slowly turning to ash during this marathon.
A spear grazes him, and oh god, he’s actually going to die. This is the end for the adored outlaw, Leonardo.
Leo speeds up because oh shit.
And then a miracle happens.
A quick cry breaks into the atmosphere. Leo looks over his shoulder, watching one of his attackers hit the rough pavement. A banana peel is situated underneath his shoe, the source of the fall.
He slows down, his vigilance remains through the roof.
How the fuck did that just happen? Where did that banana even come from? And why is it so damn big?
He quickly pats his head, wanting to confirm that his child is still there. There is no frog.
His eyes widen as he does a double take of the site. His beloved sits a few feet away from the active crime scene. And the fruit it sits on makes Leo’s heart fill with pride.
The frog is on top of a naked banana.
“Holy fuck! I think I broke my ankle!” Not Trash Boy shouts.
Garbage is crouched near him, finger on the other guard’s wrist. He’s looking for a pulse?
“Talk to me, Usagi! Stay with me, dude! Don’t walk into the light!” The idiot shakes the other guard.
“I am with you! I think I need immediate medical attention!”
Leo strolls over to his child and pats it out of affection.
“You did good, kid. You did good,” he says, figuring the frog needed some well-deserved praise.
The frog croaks, eyes appearing to separate more from that statement.
“Ohmigosh!” he squeals. “Your first words! God, they grow up so fast,” he says while wiping a tear from his eye.
He discounts the guards who seem to not even care for him at this point and tries to search the streets for a habitable home for his amphibian friend.
“What do you want, o' child of mine? Only the best for you,” he whispers while extending his arm out so the frog can take in the view.
The frog blows a bubble from its throat.
Leo adjusts the candy in his mouth, making room for his voice. “Oh man, don’t think I can get you a mansion. Not that you don’t deserve one, just don’t have the funds, ya’know? I mean, you live in the same economy I do. I’m sure you get it.”
A ribbit.
“A bucket?” he asks, eyebrow raised as he scans the area for a noticeable bucket
A person, clothed in luxurious garments, grips a bucket. He dawns a color Leonardo has never had the chance of seeing with the naked eye. Atop his ornate outfit, a cloak shields him from the reality of this world. But the thing that captivates him the most is how he is a turtle. Just like him.
Well, not entirely like him, but this guy is no doubt a turtle.
And, well, that's trademarked.
Leo marches with purpose towards the rather pompous-looking person. The other turtle just stares at him, as if he is an interesting book that he's picking apart in his head.
What’s the deal with staring problems nowadays?
“Hey you! The kid who’s starin’! Yeah, no- Don’t give me that look! I need your bucket, it’s an emergency.” He points towards the metal object dangling from the boy’s hand.
The other turtle appears to stumble, which is embarrassing. He wasn’t even moving, how does one just promptly trip from doing nothing?
“Kid?” he asks, eyes wide. “Do you have not a clue with who you are conversing with?” he says with a more level tone.
Who in the right mind even talks like that? This guy must have been reading too many of those high-class novels. No, he actually seems to be the type of guy to read a dictionary. Not even for fun, just because they have no life to live.
Leo rolls his eyes. “Look, my frog needs a home, you seem to carry that home. It’ll be really cool of you to just hand over the bucket.”
“No, wait. Who do you think you are? Did you not just call me a kid? How old do you even think I am?”
Leo rolls his eyes once more. Jeez, this guy really holds onto the past, huh?
“I mean, does this really matter? I’m only trying to exploit you, not like I’ll see you again. But sure, I’ll answer your dumb questions, though I am in the middle of somethin',” he replies, turning to look over the guards who still seem to be distracted. “Yes, I called you a kid, and you definitely fall between the five to six-year-old range.”
The other turtle’s mouth hangs open. “Five to six?” he repeats.
“Yeah, now can I have the bucket? I really should get going, April’s going to give me hell if she finds out the king’s guards have been chasing me down.” He scratches the back of his head.
The tiny toddler slowly looks past him, seeing the two guards on the ground in disarray, then looks back to Leo and his child.
“You really have no idea who I am?”
That makes Leo’s eyes roll with such a force that he can see his own massive and bulging brain. This guy’s ego is soaring through the roof.
“First of all, I’m not five, I’m literally fifteen. And like, I’m also one of the three princes of this kingdom. In fact, I’m the second-in-command when it comes to artillery. My name is printed on every weapon. How do you not know this? I bet you’re too enraptured in your own little peasant life to even notice the big picture.”
Leo did not ask to be attacked for his lack of wealth.
“I mean, the privilege to even interact with a prince should be your greatest dream, right? Meeting me? I could supply you with a grand amount of money just by the snap of my fingers.”
He doesn’t believe that for a second. He’s encountered many children who claim to be the prince because they want Leo to kneel before them or something. He’s heard it all; ‘I’m Hamato Yoshi’s son,’ or, ‘My mom is the emperor’s secret lover,’ or just the classic, ‘My dad’s the king and I’ll have him throw you in jail.’
“Look, Prince, I certainly do not care for your little backstory. Just give me the bucket,” he says while holding a hand out.
The man makes a face. “You’re kidding me? My first day off and I got mugged? This is why I never exit my chambers,” he huffs.
Leo impatiently taps his foot. “Yeah, yeah, it happens to the rest of us, bud. Get over it, literally no one cares.”
The other turtle narrows his eyes, slowly guiding his hand behind his back. Leo cocks his head, curious of the shit this dude is about to pull.
And when his hand returns to view, Leo stumbles backward.
Because, holy shit, he’s carrying Daedalus' staff. He almost falls on his ass when a sleek dark purple crown, decorated with flakes of gold within it, materializes on the prince’s head from the mystic weapon.
And Leo’s inner child soars above the clouds. He always dreamt of meeting one of the princes from when he was but a wee and naïve child. And while this specific prince was always his least favorite, seeming the most bitchy, it’s still an achievement. He doesn’t think any of the princes have actually ever been spotted out in clear daylight in the streets, the king made sure of that.
However, something must’ve changed… and that serves as somewhat of a problem.
The staff is pointed at him while both the guards stare from behind.
Oy vey, what should he even say? Oh man, oh boy.
He clears his throat a bit, trying to deepen his voice. “Y’know what, I think my baby child is willing to wait for a new home.”
“Is that so?” Daedalus chuckles, striking fear into Leo’s already pounding heart. “Very convenient. How about as a compromise for my time you’ve just wasted, you hand over the frog?”
Oh fuck no. Fuck the royals, they did not just want him to hand over his child. But he wants to squeal with glee, because the prince just threatened him.
“Okay, no. Can I just backtrack a bit? I think you misunderstood me and what I was trying to get at. I wasn’t mugging you, I was merely trying to bribe you. I was trying to bribe you to hand over your bucket with my words. That’s not mugging,” he frantically says with a glowing staff pointed to his face.
This is the best day ever, he must admit. He never thought he’d see mystic powers working in real-time.
It’s a shame that it’s being used against him.
He sprints off, figuring that to be the best way to not get himself killed.
“Hey! Could you stay still? I won’t hurt you too badly! Just a bit!” the prince, Daedalus, shouts at him. He can’t tell if the pounding in his ears is his fanboy heart or terror. Probably a mix of both. Because, oh sweet lord Jesus, the Daedalus just shouted at him.
So yes, he may actually die today. But at least it’s from a royal rather than one of those foolish guards.
He hears footsteps strike the ground behind him, too close for comfort.
“Hey, so uhm-” He gasps for a breath. “Do you mind if I take a quick water break? I haven’t hydrated today and I’ve been running quite a lot. I mean, I can just go get some from my place real quick and I’ll come back!”
“For some odd reason, I don’t think I believe that statement!” Daedalus shouts back. “Just stay still! It’ll make things easier for us both!” he calls out.
Leo speeds up, not believing the prince’s own statement.
The speed boost appears futile, considering he hears the other turtle quickly gaining on him.
Jesus Christ, how much does this guy run? He thought the rulers just lived a life of luxury, he didn’t actually think they did anything beneficial.
“You are quite the difficult one,” the prince wheezes. He quickly sneaks a peak and, oh my god, the gem embedded on the tip of his scepter is glowing bright purple. He’s never seen a gem glow, that’s the dopest ass shit out there.
He hears a blast come from the staff and closes his eyes. This is it, where he goes down to the hands of the government. Still, a pretty epic way to die, but he wanted to get some last words to April. Like how it was in fact him who ate the last cookie, not FlibFlob, the sneakiest raccoon to exist, who snuck into their bunks.
It’s a shame, he’s pretty sure April would’ve wanted to know that.
That’s weird because Leo is still running and thinking. Should he not be on the floor and extremely injured?
It’s also a miracle that he’s still running because, well, Daedalus is known to utilize his opponent’s energy and create functional weapons or barriers.
But Leo doesn’t feel like his energy is being sucked up nor does he think he has run into a wall, although how would he know? This whole experience has been a first.
Leo fumbles when he looks back over his shoulder, only to see Daedalus stiffly stand in place, staring at the weapon he holds in his hands.
He slows down, noticing purple energy that glitches in and out of reality. It appears that he just ran through it, it didn’t do anything to stop him.
“Wow, that is awkward. I totally thought I was a goner,” he says, coughing due to the labor his poor lungs just went through. “If you gave up, that’s definitely fine by me. I totally needed this breather.”
Daedalus pays him no mind, he just stares at the weapon in hand.
“Euoh boy,” Leo begins while putting a finger to his chin. “That doesn’t look good.” He pauses, unsure how best to break this terrible news to the heartbroken prince. “I think your thingamabob blew a fuse, which is fine. Though I swear I heard you trying to explode me, maybe you were trying too hard. I uh- I think you should try less hard next time.”
Leo scratches his cheek and repositions the lollipop sticking out of his mouth, hesitating about how to proceed. God, is every exchange with a royal this awkward? He supposes so, considering they’ve never actually had real social interaction.
“I think- I think I might’ve tripped a circuit. That’s my bad. Jeez…” He whistles. Noticing Daedalus’ twitch of irritation, he takes a step back. “Well, I guess I’mma just go and let you process this all. Give His Majesty my highest regards too. I wanna make a good impression. Arrivederci, loser!”
He begins to jog off before realizing his youngster still needs a home. He slowly turns his head to the prince once more.
He’s sure he wouldn’t mind if Leo borrowed his bucket for the time being.
Leo leisurely stalks up to the frozen turtle and snatches the bucket attached to the prince’s hip and ties it to his own baldric.
Property of D is scribbled over the entire bucket in red ink. God what a loser. Who even claims a bucket? Winners don’t, that’s for sure.
He carefully sets his beautiful child down into the bucket. The frog doesn’t move, soaking in the amazing decor within the bucket-like gray wall and even more gray wall.
And with that, Leo shoots off, not waiting around for Daedalus’ staff to magically start working again. He takes a paper stick, the only remnant of the lollipop, out of his mouth and drops it into the bucket for later consumption.
“So, you wanna name, frog? I think you deserve one, you stuck with me this far. And that banana trick was epic. April’s going to love you,” he tells the frog with his trademarked smirk.
Leo stares at the wanted poster plastered right next to the orphanage he resides in.
In his humble opinion, it’s impressive how fast they got these babies out. They must have been waiting for this moment. Leo has been too.
“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” April says while pinching the bridge of her nose. “Leonardo! Would you like to explain why your face is hung up all over town?”
“I gotta admit, they chose a kickass name. Like, ‘Kappa Kozō.’ That’s sick. I’m gonna be famous, April.”
“Unbelievable! You’re going to be rotting in jail! I let you out of my sight for one minute! One minute, Leo!” She jabs a finger up into the air, apparently wanting him to see how many fingers one is. “You better hope I don’t take that grubby mask away from you! Actually no, not even that! You’d be lucky that I even let you sleep on the futon this week! That’s right! I get dibs on the futon for this whole week because of your idiotic decisions! Fuck, wait no! I quit! I don’t think I can handle you getting yourself into trouble, see how well off you are by the end. And even though I quit, I’ll probably have to bail you out of jail!”
“You seem stressed, how about some Gumptina?” Leo says while pulling the frog out of his bucket.
April stares at the frog, her lips tightening into a line. She closes her eyes and inhales a deep breath before slowly releasing it.
She unstraps the bucket from Leo’s baldric and puts Gumptina in it. Then she leads Leo into the orphanage while Leo cautiously follows. They head up the stairs and enter their shared room. She sets the bucket on the junky wooden desk and slowly opens a window.
Leo slouches at the sight. It appears that the sacrificial offer of Gumptina was in vain.
“You know the routine,” she orders, pointing out the window.
Leo dejectedly nods and crawls through the window frame. With one last long look towards the bucket, Leo chucks himself out the window. He lands shell-first in a bush, and seeing April’s fuming face makes every ounce of this experience worthwhile. He grins when she catches him watching her.
While it was never his mission to aggravate a prince, rest assured, he can in fact say ‘mission accomplished’.
“I can’t believe it! That asshole literally violated me and my powers!” Donnie seethes while Mikey raises a brow in confusion.
“So you’re tellin’ me this rando’ just completely ignored your magic?” the youngest questions in disbelief. He swings his nunchucks around out of boredom, eyes watching the batons illuminate from a mystical fire spitting out and around them.
“It’s mystic energy,” he huffs from under his breath. “And he didn't just ignore it, he defied it!”
Mikey snorts, making Donnie snap his head up toward him. “Donnie, dude, he wasn’t trying to do any harm, it seems like something maybe just went awry while you were charging up. No big dealio.” The smaller prince shrugs. “Also stop trying to kill our people, we’re supposed to be the kingdom known for our tranquility. Father would not approve.”
The elder’s teeth grit. “My mystic powers aren’t malfunctioning,” he stresses.
“Never confirmed that it actually was, but maybe you should just let it go? If you’re really so compelled to get your revenge, then I’d double-check your staff. Maybe the gem got knocked outta place?”
Donnie scoffs. “Let it go? Knocked out of place? I’ve been using this damned thing for a decade, how the hell does it get knocked out of place the one time I actually am able to use it? So it’s fine in our spars with the guards but not real-life fights, what a load of bull.”
Mikey sighs. “C’mon, let’s just go practice and see if you really are off your game today. I think Raph and Father are going to be with the tutor for a while, that means we get the castle to ourselves.” He grins.
Donnie grunts while standing from the chair he sits on. “Do me a favor and never tell Raph and Father of my failure. If you do, guess what?”
“What?”
“You’re getting booted from people I affiliate with. People will never see me in the same room as you. You will lose our family’s name and title, only being referred to as a disgrace,” he says, showing no symptoms of pranks or high jinks.
“Yikes,” Mikey hisses. “Must’ve been a real humiliating defeat. Now you’re all pissy and I have to be the one to deal with it.”
Donnie scowls. “How ‘bout you do me another favor and shut up.”
Mikey shrugs, heading out the corridor and curtly nodding to one of the guards who stands outside the door.
“Your Highness,” they acknowledge.
Donnie stares at the empty space once filled by his brother.
“'Let it go?'” he repeats in frustration. “'Let it go,' does he even know me?”
That thief made a fool of him. Made a fool of the strengths he holds. Donnie needs to find that man. How dare he even taunt royalty? How dare he-
Releasing an exasperated sigh, Donnie trails Mikey to the gardens. Where fire meets technology. Where the sun supplies the earth with radiating energy and paints the world in gold.